


Lost Souls

by TomDuggerbug



Category: Hyper Light Drifter
Genre: Blood, Fluff, M/M, Mute Drifter, and made them all exactly 100 words, aparantly that's what a drabble is! so i challenged myself, but its very implicit, for making sure these are all exactly 100 words long, for unsaid reasons, he/him drifter, he/him guardain, i would like to personally thank wordcounter.io, it was fun tbh, rated mature because the ninth one is...sexual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-26 23:07:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18726700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TomDuggerbug/pseuds/TomDuggerbug
Summary: Love is slow and death is quickA series of driftguard drabbles (with a few being more related to the actual plot)





	Lost Souls

When Guardian first finds him, he's unconscious and bloodstained in the northwest forest. He's feverish and shivering, and Guardian doesn't think twice before cradling the smaller blueskin in his arms and carrying him home. He's way too light, and Guardian immediately knows why: he's infected with the same illness. It's something he unfortunately knows all too well, and he can't help but feel pity for this stranger. Perhaps it's just in his nature, but he feels compelled to help this other blueskin, even if all he can do is give him food and shelter until it inevitably takes him too.

* * *

The blueskin doesn't say anything. It becomes clear to Guardian that he's not used to being in the presence of another; he shrinks away from his attempts to comfort him, even during a coughing fit, and he refuses to remove his helmet or mask, despite how saturated the cloth becomes with the blood he coughs up. It takes a while before he even tells Guardian his name, and even then, he still doesn't speak. His bot displays a message that only reads, "I have no name". So Guardian decides to simply call him Drifter, and he doesn't seem to mind.

* * *

Drifter often wonders what the rest of his kind looks like. He's seen more skulls than faces in his short life, and each one makes loneliness chew at his insides, even more painful than his illness. Deep in the western forest, he pauses. He finds another blueskin - but not how he wanted. It's encased in crystal and its face is twisted in agony, blood pouring from empty eyes like tears. Drifter stares into those dead eyes with awe and with horror. He wishes he could ask it what happened, but the answer terrifies him. He runs and doesn't look back.

* * *

Drifters are known for hiding themselves. Never saying much, never showing more skin than was necessary. This one is no exception.

The longer he stays, the more he opens up. Guardian begins to see a strong-willed and determined spirit beneath that stoic exterior; kind-hearted, fiercely competitive, and a bit snarky sometimes. He begins to see the pain in his eyes when he finishes coughing, so tired and hopeless and lost, and sometimes it lingers, but he always shakes it off. Guardian has to admire his courage; he's small and he's weak, but he's putting up one hell of a fight.

* * *

The north is cold and unforgiving. It bites through his cloak and gnaws at his bones. He finds himself too unprepared for the weather, and collapses.

Drifter wakes up again in Guardian's house, embarrassed and ashamed of his weakness. But Guardian has warm blankets and tea and reassuring words for him. He tells Drifter to rest and recover, and when he's better, they can go north and search for modules together.

He doesn't say a word as Drifter finally takes off his helmet and mask. He only smiles, and for once in his life, Drifter feels a bit less lonely.

* * *

The nightmares are relentless. Images of destruction and bloodied corpses, of twisted black shadows that slaughter him over and over in increasingly gruesome fashions. And there's always a jackal watching him suffer, barely out of reach. Drifter wakes up trembling and in a cold sweat, sometimes crying, often coughing. Guardian never asks what the dreams are about, he only comforts him, however he can, with a deep, unspoken understanding. As if they share the same pain, the same nightmares.

Drifter lets himself be held, and Guardian rocks him gently and whispers words of comfort until he can fall asleep again.

* * *

It is not often that Guardian sees him truly angry. He's been frustrated before, with their lack of progress in finding modules, and once when he kept losing to a child at a game of soccer.

But as they stand in the east, surrounded with the corpses of hundreds of innocents who were burned and skinned and slaughtered, Guardian sees nothing but malice in those pure black eyes. He's splattered with blood and almost trembling with rage, and Guardian knows not to get in his way as he storms ahead, hell-bent on avenging a clan he had never even known.

* * *

It must be the loneliness that pushes them closer together. Weeks pass, and Drifter grows increasingly comfortable with Guardian. He lets himself be touched and keeps his head uncovered when they're alone together. Guardian does the same. Drifter still never speaks, and Guardian still doesn't pry.

Perhaps it is no surprise, then, that Guardian slips up once and kisses his temple. They're alone when it happens, Drifter resting in his lap, and Guardian begins to apologize. But Drifter just smiles, and it's the first time Guardian has seen him so happy.

He holds Drifter close as the kiss is returned.

* * *

Drifter seems so tiny beneath him. They're a mess of tangled limbs and warm, breathy sighs, and Guardian holds Drifter close, slowly rolling against him. He's frightfully thin, skin ashen and sickly, as if his illness has eaten him alive. Guardian presses soft kisses to heated skin, murmuring words of affection and praise as his hands roam, tracing every scar, the outline of his ribs. He's beautiful, so beautiful, it's all Guardian can think as he listens to his breath hitch and feels careful claws scratch up his spine, holding him close, clinging desperately. For the moment, everything is okay.

* * *

Guardian coughs a few more times and then goes still. At first, Drifter thinks nothing of it. It's death; no stranger to him. Just as it has claimed countless lives before, so it has claimed Guardian's. It's almost too natural.

He takes Guardian's cloak. It is the drifter way, the only thing he has ever known.

It is only once he returns home - Guardian's home - and finds it empty, painfully empty in a way it has never been before, that the reality hits him, and he realizes he's all alone, and he lets himself sink to the floor and cry.

**Author's Note:**

> Just finished this game and hoo boy...y’all weren’t lying about that ending huh


End file.
